


Just Ride

by Mackem



Series: Imaginary Advent Calendar 2012 [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Double Penetration, Handcuffs, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek doesn't want any presents, but that doesn't mean he'll refuse what Scott and Stiles have to offer (their dicks).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Every year, I write what I call my Imaginary Advent Calendar, where each day until December 25th I open another day of an advent calendar that doesn’t exist and write what I picture various people or characters in different shows/fandoms/books in a holidays context. This year I’ve challenged myself to write a ficlet for every day. See Vicky panic! They’ll be in various different fandoms and pairings, and won’t be particularly long (except the ones that eat my brain). Enjoy! X!
> 
> So, yeah, apparently I ship all the teen wolves. And all the teens who aren't wolves. At the same time. This fic was a bloody nightmare to write. Beta love to [canistakahari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/).

Derek, they figure, will be super hard to buy for, and after what feels like the longest week of school _ever_ , they seriously don’t have the brain left to think of anything.

So they just ask.

“What the hell kind of person doesn’t want any Christmas presents?” Stiles complains as they hike back out of the woods. Derek’s standing in the doorway of the rebuilt Hale house, silhouetted in the warm light as he watches them go. It’s a habit of his, watching them leave with his arms crossed as he leans comfortably against the doorjamb, as if he cannot bear to take his eyes off them until the last possible second. Stiles usually finds it sweet. Now, he suspects Derek is laughing at them. “It’s bullshit! It’s a double-bluff, it must be! Derek is not _actually_ the Grinch, okay.”

“He can hear you,” Scott says mildly, before a reluctant smile spreads across his face. “Actually, he’s laughing at you.”

“I knew it! He is _mocking us_!” Stiles hollers back towards the house. He sighs as Derek offers a cheeky wave and closes the door behind them. “I don’t buy it, okay? I do not buy any of that crap. Unlike the presents we will buy Derek. _All_ the presents.”

Scott, however, shrugs and tugs Stiles’ chilly hand into his own to lead him through the woods. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Really?” Stiles gapes. He twines his fingers with Scott’s as they walk. “You’re sure?”

“He really means it,” Scott shrugs, leading Stiles around a fallen tree. “His pulse is all…y’know. Steady. He really doesn’t want any presents. Maybe Christmas doesn’t mean much to him?”

“But…Christmas!” Stiles protests, before sighing. He gestures expansively with both hands, laughing sheepishly when he unintentionally drags Scott closer with a jerk of his arm. Scott just laughs at him, and winds his arm around his waist instead.

“Christmas isn’t just about presents, y’know,” Scott says lightly.

“You sound like a crappy Christmas film,” Stiles sighs, but gives in when faced with Scott’s huge, pleading eyes. “Okay, okay. No presents. But we can’t just ignore him at Christmas, right? Why don’t…hey, why don’t we just do something for him, instead? Something he‘ll like?”

“Okay,” Scott agrees easily. “He deserves something nice. So what do we do?”

They have no idea.

***

It’s Scott that comes up with the plan.

“He’s pretty physical,” he explains as Stiles gapes at him, falling in love with Scott’s beautiful mind all over again. “I think maybe he’d like something he can _feel_. Y’know? Does that make sense?”

“You’re a genius,” Stiles declares, and plants appreciative kisses on Scott’s lips until he stops denying it.

They wait until they know the rest of the pack are busy before pitching the idea to Derek together. He lets them seat him on the couch, listening as they explain what they want, talking over each other and bouncing excitedly in front of him. Stiles is well aware he thinks of them as his pups, and that they’re doing nothing to dissuade him from this view. It doesn’t really matter. Stiles kind of likes it.

“You want to fuck me?” he asks eventually when fall silent and are left beaming hopefully at him. 

They issue twin nods.

“Together.”

“Yup.”

“Totally.”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Derek asks, an eyebrow arching elegantly in bewilderment. “We have sex all the time.”

“Not together!” Stiles protests. Derek snorts.

“I usually recall seeing both of you there.”

“No - we don’t mean at the same time,” Scott laughs, and Stiles takes the opportunity to slide into Derek’s lap, locking his ankles around his back as Derek chuckles up at him. Stiles loves seeing him relaxed like this. Derek has changed for the better in the last year, since they saw off the alphas together and grew naturally into a pack that _works_ , rather than a ragtag collection of awkward teenagers and an alpha running on rage and grief. Stiles thinks maybe Derek is starting to look forward, instead of back; to look at what he _has_ , instead of what he has lost. It suits him.

“Listen to us,” he demands, settling his hands on Derek’s cheeks and blinking into his green eyes. Derek laughs at him in return, but doesn’t throw him off. “Really listen, I mean. We want to fuck you. _Both_ of us. At the same time. We both want to be inside you at the same time, Derek.”

“You’re not talking about double-teaming, are you?” Derek asks slowly. Scott is giggling at him, resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder from behind as he beams.

“Double is close!”

“Double penetration,” Stiles says slowly, sounding out each syllable. “Both of us, inside your _ass_ , Derek. Do you read me?”

“Right,” Derek says with a slow nod. He looks between the two of their faces, eyebrows raised. “And you mentioned handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs!” Stiles echoes with some relish.

“We want you to focus on how you feel,” Scott explains. He reaches out to wrap his arms around Stiles and sets his hands on Derek’s shoulders, squeezing softly. “Not on trying to get us off. You never let us take charge! You’re always worrying about how _we_ feel.”

“I’m your alpha,” Derek says with a small huff. His lips are threatening to smile, Stiles can tell. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, well, not today, okay?” Stiles says firmly. He slides his hands down Derek’s bare arms, stroking soothingly. “That’s our present. For just one night, you’re not in control. _We_ are. We’re gonna lavish all our attention on you, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”

“Unless you don’t want it,” Scott says earnestly.

“Yeah, or you don’t like it.”

“Or it hurts.”

“Stop, stop talking,” Derek protests. He smiles fondly in the face of their hopeful, eager eyes, and issues an abrupt nod. “Fine. Okay. I accept your Christmas present of two dicks.”

“And some handcuffs.”

“In a pear tree,” Scott finishes with a goofy smile. Derek surges close and kisses Scott with a chuckle, before pressing his lips to Stiles‘ mouth..

It takes them no time at all to drag Derek into his bedroom and strip him of his clothes. He obediently presses his hands together behind his back when Stiles brandishes the cuffs at him, and allows them to march him across the room with a hand on each shoulder.

Derek makes a gorgeous picture, kneeling naked at the foot of his bed with his backside on display and his hands trapped, his upper body lying flush against the mattress. Scott and Stiles can hardly tear each other’s clothes off quickly enough; he openly laughs at them when a few buttons ping across the room. Stiles smacks his ass petulantly, and refuses to shrink back when Derek raises an imperious eyebrow. “Look, just because we weren’t _all_ born with grace oozing from our pores,” he huffs as he shoves his boxers down, “Doesn’t mean you get to laugh at me when I destroy clothes, okay?”

“Am I allowed to laugh at you?” Scott asks curiously. He’s already naked, applying lube to his fingers as he settles behind Derek. Stiles sniffs haughtily.

“You were allowed, when you were just as bad as me. Now you’re all wolfed up, nope. I revoke your ‘laughing at Stiles’ privileges.”

“I choose to ignore their revoked status,” Scott offers with a grin when Stiles kneels beside him.

“You have chosen…wisely,” Derek murmurs. Stiles can see him testing the cuffs, those ridiculous muscles of his flexing behind his back as he bends over his bed. 

“Hey!” he protests, swatting gently at Derek’s arm when he hears the metal groan. “Knock it off, okay? I paid good money for those and I’d appreciate it if I could get more than one use out of them!”

“Fine,” Derek huffs, but cranes his head to aim a look that is both amused and fond at Stiles and Scott. If anybody had asked him, mere months ago, if Derek Hale was capable of looking anything other than murderous and vengeful, Stiles would have laughed in their face. Then quickly checked the shadows for Derek, looking murderous and vengeful. Now, in the face of his small, cheeky grin, Stiles cannot help but grin back.

“What? What are you laughing about?”

“You do know that out of the three of us, the only person these cuffs would actually have a chance of holding for longer than five minutes is _you_ , right?” Derek murmurs, and Stiles flushes as Scott aims a goofy grin at him and gives him a nudge.

“He’s totally right. We could escape whenever we wanted, but you‘d be helpless.”

“I’m aware of that,” Stiles sniffs, even as he squirms. His mind is too busy not to have already played around with that idea. “Of course I am. How could I forget I’m the only puny human here, with you two mocking me with your wolfy powers all the time?”

“I’m just saying,” Derek shrugs, and Stiles is fascinated by the play of muscles under his bare skin. “These are only still on because I let you _put_ them on.”

“Of course we know that!” scoffs Stiles while Scott laughs.

“That’s why it’s sexy!”

“Moron,” Stiles agrees, before patting Derek firmly on the backside. Why not? It’s bare, and it’s right there, and he’s allowed. “Now do you mind focussing for, like, two seconds?”

“Yeah,” Scott adds, and slides two fingers into Derek. He scissors them firmly inside Derek’s slick hole, and grins at the soft, pleased noise he produces. “We’re kind of too busy to talk right now,” he says pointedly, and repeats the action just to hear Derek moan.

It wouldn’t normally take two of their trio to prep somebody, but these circumstances are different, and they refuse to risk hurting him. Stiles and Scott kneel side by side behind Derek as he bends over, both of them with two fingers buried inside him. Stiles finds himself entranced with Derek all over again; the soft sound of his breathing, the gleam of his skin as he flushes, the way he relaxes under their touch.

“You’re doing so well,” Scott murmurs gently, listening to Derek‘s moan. “You’re taking it so well, Derek, can you take a little more?”

“Yes,” Derek moans, and raises his hips encouragingly. “Come on.”

“Impatient,” Stiles laughs, but carefully guides a third finger into Derek’s tight hole. Scott keeps his own two fingers still as Stiles slowly works his own into Derek, his movements delicate and cautious. He knows that Derek can heal. He also knows that he doesn‘t want him to _have_ to heal.

Scott is frowning as Derek shifts with the movement of Stiles’ fingers; his muscles tense visibly, and his breathing tightens. “Derek?” Scott asks, and Stiles stills himself immediately.

“You okay?” he asks warily. Derek nods, the action jerky.

“Yes,” he grates. “Keep going, c’mon.”

“Shh,” Scott murmurs, and exchanges a worried glance with Stiles. “We’re in charge, remember? Let us take care of you. I’ve got a better idea,” he tells Stiles, and slides his fingers free. Stiles does the same, smiling briefly at the anguished moan this steals from Derek as Scott gets to his feet.

“What are you thinking?”

“He needs to relax,” Scott says gently, running a hand over Derek’s back as he climbs onto the bed.

“I’m relaxed,” Derek protests, lifting his head. “I’m hard, how could I not be relaxed?”

“Your dick may be hard, but your asshole is tensing up,” Scott says, with a small smile. One hand strokes affectionately through Derek’s hair as Derek sighs at him, then Scott scoots back along the bed. He busies himself making a pile of the pillows at the head and props himself upright against it with his legs spread. “C’mon.”

“What?” Derek asks, warily. Stiles strokes circles into the small of his back, grinning broadly.

“I get it. You’re going to ride Scott,” he beams with an encouraging pat of his backside. He might be taking advantage of Derek’s position, but in his defence, Derek’s backside is supremely squeezable and Stiles actually can’t keep his hands away from it.

Derek grumbles with the touch but Stiles can see the tell-tale upturn at the corners of his lips, so grins, feeling safe to squeeze harder. “And then when you’re sitting on his dick, and your hole is nice and full,” he says in a sing-song voice, his index finger circling tenderly around his asshole, “I’m going to slide my fingers inside you, and then we’ll show you what full really _means_. That sound fun, Derek?”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Derek asks in return. That same small grin is at his lips as he gets to his feet and climbs onto the bed.

“Yeah, yeah. An idiot whose dick you crave.”

“You know me so well,” drawls Derek. Stiles watches him as he crawls along the bed, balancing upright on his knees with his hands restrained, and still completely graceful with it. If it was Stiles, he’d be flat on his face right now, probably with a nosebleed. 

Scott grins up at him from the pillows, eyes dark with desire as Derek settles over his hips, leaning back as Scott pulls his legs up to keep him balanced. Stiles just watches them for a moment, taking in their naked bodies, all tanned skin and defined muscle, and wishes he had a camera handy. Then he scrambles onto the bed and kneels beside the two of them.

“Allow me,” he grins, and leans between them to guide Scott’s firm dick in line with Derek’s hole. Derek snorts and Scott laughs at his show of good manners; that is, until Derek sinks smoothly down atop his prick, and Scott interrupts himself with a moan.

Derek kneels atop him, legs spread and cock hard against his stomach as Stiles strokes any flesh he can get his hands on. “D’you have any idea how hot the two of you are together?” he murmurs, looking between them, his own dick stiff as he watches them. Derek is shifting atop Scott, silent as he breathes deeply through his nose, his head bowed, and Scott is watching him closely, hands stroking Derek’s spread thighs. “I mean, _any_ idea? You could be sculpted. By actual sculptors looking to represent, like, Greek gods. Or you could be in porn,” he offers, and grins when the two of them chuckle.

“Like _you_ couldn’t be in porn?” Scott retorts. “You’re all…like, lithe. And hot!”

“Stop talking about porn,” Derek orders, with an almost regal look down his nose at the two of them. “Stiles, get your fingers inside me.”

“Jeez,” Stiles half-laughs. He shakes his head and obediently moves behind Derek, unable to deny just how much his dick appreciates that tone. “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones ordering _you_ around?”

“You can try,” Derek says easily, and Scott laughs. He gives a quick thrust of his hips and Derek gasps, before scowling at Scott.

“What? Stiles is right. Maybe we should’ve gagged you,” Scott muses. Stiles kneels up behind Derek, wraps his arms around his chest, tucks his chin over his shoulder and _beams_.

“Um, yes please? I will second that in a shot. And third it, too, if possible. We’re doing that. Let’s do that next. Can we do that next time?”

Scott and Derek share a glance. “I vote we gag Stiles next time,” Derek says easily.

“Second!”

“This is mutiny,” Stiles declares, and crouches down behind Derek before they can see the treacherous flush on his face. Which doesn’t even matter, because they can probably smell how much he likes the idea, and his heart is definitely beating faster, and they won’t miss any of it. Damn werewolves. “Damn werewolves!” he adds aloud, for good measure.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Derek says easily, and Stiles scowls.

He finds he can’t quite look away from the sight of Scott’s cock pushing into Derek’s asshole. He’s not even moving much; his hips are rocking up into Derek just a little, just enough to tease little sighs of pleasure from him as he kneels with Scott sheathed inside him.

Stiles traces his finger around the rim of Derek’s ass before snatching up the abandoned tube of lubricant. “Lube is our friend,” he murmurs as he slicks his fingers up again.

“Who are you talking to?” Scott calls, straining to see past Derek. Stiles laughs.

“Derek’s ass, I guess?” Derek sighs, and Stiles huffs, “Hey - no pulling faces. I don’t have to see your face to know you’re pulling faces. Scott, what’s he doing?”

“He’s rolling his eyes,” Scott supplies, before adding, “And now he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. It’s adorable.”

“Damn right,” Stiles laughs softly, before taking a deep breath. He pats Derek softly on the back. “Brace up, buddy, okay? This is, uh, this is gonna feel tight.”

“Just do it! I’m not made of glass,” Derek snaps.

Stiles obliges. With one hand stroking Derek’s back in soothing circles, he presses one slick finger to Derek’s hole and gently pushes inside. Derek groans immediately, his hands clenching in the cuffs, and both Stiles and Scott shush him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Scott murmurs.

“You can do it,” Stiles says softly. “You’re okay.”

“’s tight,“ he mutters. 

“I know,” Stiles soothes. “But you can take it, I know you can.” He smiles as Derek’s breathing evens out slowly as he stretches around Scott’s prick and the careful push of Stiles’ finger, gently easing inside him.

Long minutes later, when Derek is rocking demandingly down onto them, Stiles presses a second finger to his stretched hole. Derek groans thickly, his legs spreading further as he bears down. “You like this?” Stiles asks, his own voice rough as he carefully, _so_ carefully scissors his fingers inside Derek. “You like being so full? Scott, tell me how hard he is.”

“Um…really hard?” Scott says. Stiles snorts.

“You have the soul of a poet, Scott, and I appreciate that about you.”

“It’s a dick, what am I supposed to say? I’m telling you, he’s super hard. I think he likes this,” Scott offers, and Stiles can _hear_ his smirk. 

“I do,” Derek mumbles. His voice is breathy, his head hanging as he sits astride Scott. He seems to have given up on setting any rhythm and has stilled himself, legs spread wide as Stiles strokes between his shoulder blades soothingly. “Like it. I want - can I have more? Please?”

“Huh. A full Derek is a polite Derek,” Stiles comments in some surprise. He obliges by pressing a third finger to Derek’s slick hole, revelling in the sob he draws from him as he pushes slowly inside. “Y’okay?” he asks softly.

“Y-yeah,” he manages. He turns to look at Stiles over his shoulder, and Stiles groans at the sight of him; his cheeks are flushed, his lower lip swollen as he chews desperately on it, his pupils blown wide. “I’m fine, I’m _fine_ , don’t stop.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Stiles murmurs, and cannot help but laugh as Derek whines and his cuffed hands reach back blindly, fingers desperately scrabbling at his chest. “Okay, all right, I promise!”

He can’t help but treat Derek like he could break at any moment, even with all he knows about werewolves. They can still feel pain, even with the super-strength, and he refuses to hurt his alpha. He moves his fingers slowly inside him, working to relax trembling muscles as he stretches around the blunt push of Scott’s prick and his spreading fingers. When he crooks his fingers and slides a fourth into his stretched ass Derek produces a broken whine. Scott soothes him immediately, his voice a low murmur as he softly strokes his stomach.

“You’re fine, it’s fine, you’re doing so well, Derek, it’s okay, are you okay? He’s nodding, Stiles, I don’t know if you can see?” Scott calls, as if they’re in different rooms. Stiles chuckles.

“I saw, but thanks,” he murmurs, the palm of his free hand settling at the back of Derek’s neck. “You think you can take more, Derek? You want me to try, or is this too much?”

“It’s fine if it is,” Scott assures him, and Stiles leans in to press a reassuring kiss to his taut shoulders.

Derek takes a deep breath. “I want…more. Please. Try?”

“Okay,” Stiles murmurs.

He uses even more lube, slicking up his cock and pressing himself close behind Derek, nuzzling at his throat. “ Still sure?”

“Please!” Derek gasps, brokenly. Hearing him so strung out is pretty damn intoxicating; his desperate pleading floods straight to Stiles’ leaking dick, and he presses a hungry kiss the nape of his neck.

Still, he’s really not out to tease, and he tries to show Derek as much by being as comforting as possible. He holds Derek steady, holding him close and stroking his chest as Scott murmurs to him softly, a constant, soothing litany that wraps around the three of them as Stiles carefully pushes his cock against Derek’s slick hole.

Stiles feels like he doesn’t dare breathe. Derek is trembling in his hold, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes hard, slowly opening up to the insistent press of Stiles’ dick. He keeps his movements steady but careful, biting his own lip at the tight, slick heat that opens to him a little more with each push. He can hear Scott groaning, his murmurs to Derek becoming distinctly more ragged as they fill him up together.

“Oh my god,” he moans in Derek’s ear as the head of his prick finally breaches his asshole. “Oh my _god_ , you feel so tight, you have no idea!”

“I think he might,” Scott offers, his voice low and rough. “You okay, Derek? Still with us?”

“Yes,” Derek manages, and fuck, he sounds _wrecked_. Stiles groans and presses his lips to Derek’s throat, pressing heated kisses over gleaming flesh. Derek squirms atop them both, his hands turning restlessly in the cuffs as he struggles to speak.

“It’s okay,” Stiles murmurs against his ear, frozen in place. “Is it too much? What do you need?”

“My hands,” Derek bursts out. “Please - I need - I have to _touch_ -”

“- it’s fine,” Stiles assures him, and pats him on the chest gently as he turns his eyes to Scott. “The keys, quick, they‘re on the bedside table!”

“Got it,” Scott murmurs, scooping up the small key. He hands it to Stiles with an outstretched arm, and he guides the key into the lock with slightly shaking fingers. Mere seconds after he is freed Derek’s hands fly out to grasp them; he twines one with Scott’s hand, and curls one arm behind him, wrapping blindly around the back of Stiles’ neck.

“It’s fine, I’m here, we’re both here,” Stiles murmurs fondly, keeping his voice low and soothing as he presses kisses to his throat. Derek is tight, _so_ tight around him, and he can feel his dick sliding against Scott’s as he pushes deeper inside, hypersensitive and desperate. He bites down hard on his lip to stop himself coming immediately.

“Please,” Derek begs, his voice broken and hitching. His hands squeeze desperately at the both of them as he pleads. “Move. Touch me. Please!”

“No problem,” Scott laughs softly. He wraps a hand around Derek’s flushed prick, stroking roughly at the same time as Stiles takes a deep breath and rocks his hips, thrusting deep inside him in a quick rhythm.

The effect is electric. Derek howls as his climax is wrung from him with their attention and he spills over Scott’s hand, clenching hard around them as he rides out his orgasm. The tight heat around them is more than enough to drive Scott and Stiles over the edge. Stiles clings to him from behind, hands clutching at gleaming flesh and his lips pressing kiss after kiss to Derek’s shoulders and throat as he spills into him, and Scott groans, rough and needy as he follows, sharp claws dragged from his nails with the dizzying rush.

They collapse breathlessly onto the bed as they recover, Scott and Stiles panting, and Derek clinging to them. It can’t be comfortable for Scott, caught beneath his two partners, but as he snuggles as close as he can get to his werewolves, Stiles finds he has no inclination to move away.

“Good present?” Scott murmurs eventually, nosing at Derek’s hair. Derek groans. It takes him quite a long time to get his mouth working.

“Best ever,” he mumbles, and opens his eyes. “Am I the alpha again yet?”

“I guess?” Stiles offers lazily, and yelps when Derek grabs him and shoves him from his back. He sprawls back on the mattress in surprise, but Derek is not finished; Scott is grabbed around the chest with one strong arm and lifted bodily out of the way. Derek settles himself on his back atop the pile of pillows and both Stiles and Scott find themselves hauled atop him, laughing into his skin as he settles them with their heads lying on his chest and their legs entangled. He presses a kiss to both of their foreheads.

“My two good pups,” he yawns, and strokes his hands fondly over their hair as they snuggle close. “Thank you. I didn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve _you_.”

“Idiot,” Stiles murmurs.

“Moron,” Scott adds, with a huge, contented yawn. As Stiles closes his eyes, he hears Derek laugh happily.

He decides to start planning Derek’s birthday present _immediately_.


End file.
